The first Penn State hockey team to meet Cornell probably looked much like this.

When does the story of NCAA Division I hockey at the Pennsylvania State University begin? Where did the sport first take root for the Nittany Lions to ice their first NCAA Division I hockey team? Most accounts begin their story at a steakhouse in Central Pennsylvania. Joe Battista sits attentively as he begins to close the deal with philanthropist and big donor Terry Pegula. The gift that Battista would elicit from Pegula would be the largest single donation in the history of their University. The gratuity would be for years of hockey camps and championships that Battista had brought to Penn State. It brought college hockey of the highest order to the valley below Mount Nittany.

It may surprise most that the evening discussed above is not the moment when NCAA Division I hockey began its slog to Pennsylvania's land-grant university. It is likely the most essential moment in the decades-long battle to establish college hockey's marquee level at Penn State. It is not the germ that precipitated the brand of Penn State Icers hockey that laid latent until Nittany Lion hockey allowed the coinage of "Hockey Valley."

Dormant would have been Penn State's chances at establishing NCAA Division I hockey if the events of another evening had not taken place. It was a snow-swept evening in the frigid environs of a pastoral countryside. A translucent gloss overcomes a driver's windshield as he tries to outwit the snowfall to see but a glance of what lies before him on the roadway. A flick of his wrist turns on his blinker as he sees a tall silhouette along the roadside. The driver brings his car to rest along the side of the roadway. He motions to the would-be hitchhiker that he can approach and enter the car. The big kid approaches the car. He opens the door, but turns the page miles and years distant.

This moment was not in Central Pennsylvania. It was nearly 200 miles north in Central New York.

Similar but Unalike

The Pennsylvania State University was the first land-grant university in the United States. While the obstructionist Southern delegation inantebellum Congresses staved off the hopes of Justin Morrill and likemindedRepublicans of the Northeast and Midwest to use federal sale of lands to fund universities for public instruction, Pennsylvania boldly forged ahead with its novel experiment. The Commonwealth sold its own land holdings to fund a centralized school of higher learning. The proposed university would focus upon the mechanic and military arts.

Pennsylvania's meddling in its laboratory of democracy instilled hope in legislators like Morrill and civic-minded industrialists. The land-grant model was viable. With no members of the Southern delegation to oppose it and a favorable president in Abraham Lincoln, the Morrill Land-Grant Act of 1862 for the sale of federal lands passed. Cornell University would be founded as a result in 1865, 10 years after the Pennsylvania State University was.

The visionaries of Cornell University represented the dualism expected of a great land-grant university. Ezra Cornell sprang from the salt of the Earth and was a self-made industrialist. Andrew Dickson White was a rigorous and respected academic, but he was of a privileged birth. They were the unconventional and conventional. They incorporated the social mobility of the American ethos and traditionalism of the great university. The two are what made Cornell University an equal-opportunity meritocratic institution that dared to teach and mine fields long neglected or disparaged while adhering in its liberal arts education to the rigor of the Old World.

The Pennsylvania State University needed to find these balances, but in only one man. Evan Pugh was the founding president of Penn State. He had the unenviable need to serve as his University's Cornell and White. He would manage. Pugh, like White, was educated in the burgeoning tradition of great German research institutions.

Pughattended the University of Gottingen while White attended Frederick William University. Like Cornell, Pugh had an appreciation for agriculture after his time at Great Britain's ground-breaking Rothamstead experimental plots. Pugh's vision of combining traditional rigor in areas of classical and modern study foreshadowed the philosophies that Ezra Cornell and Andrew Dickson White would venture to perfect. Pugh died not long into his presidency.

The reciprocity and diffusion between New York's and Pennsylvania's land-grant universities did not halt. The New York Legislature, whose inhabitants were early antagonists to the creation and ambitions of Cornell University, bore down on Ezra Cornell. A distrustful eye was cast at his choice of land holdings in Wisconsin. The legislative body accused the great philanthropist and industrialist of illegal and unethical land speculation. It alleged that his conduct and the entire land-grant experiment by extension was corrupt. Ezra Cornell faced these accusations in Albany to defend his greatest endeavor. He would do so before his death. He had an ally who would come to shape the history of the Pennsylvania State University and all land-grant universities.

George Atherton was a professor at Rutgers University. A Yalie like Andrew Dickson White, he came to use the academy to advance civic service after his serving in the War Between the States. His academic focus was an empirical study of the historical and sociological effects of the Morrill Land-Grant Act. His first formal report came months before Ezra Cornell died. Atherton refuted the claims of corruption and usury against land-grant institutions, including those against Cornell University. It was the poignancy of his arguments that arrested a half-generation-long assault on institutions like Cornell and Penn State. He secured the future of land-grant universities.

The Pennsylvania State University appointed George Atherton as its seventh president. As a student of the land-grant model, he was keenly aware of the approaches that Cornell University had adopted to integrate traditional and practical education. Atherton became the first president at Penn State to manage to feed the mind of the traditional academic while teaching those in his state to hone the skills to feed a growing nation. Cornell's example informed his balance.

Atherton and White were the leaders who saw that their institutions could achieve two objectives that had been regarded as incompatible for generations. They so inspired their students in their 19th-Century makeshift university classrooms that similar stories recount both institutions early days. Students at Penn State took to teaching themselves Classics when the institution neglected liberal arts education in its early era. Their stated objective was to surpass the reputations of Harvard and Yale. Students at Cornell were far less modest. In what is regarded in campus lore as the first question on Cornell's campus, British explant Goldwin Smith fielded a question from a student. The pupil from Cornell University's first class asked, "how long would it take for the reputation of Cornell University to surpass that of Oxford?"

Bearing similar ambitions, the two institutions diverged in one key regard. The first collegiate football game was played in 1869. Cornell students embraced the sport quickly. In 1874, the University of Michigan invited Cornell's team to play a contest in Cleveland, OH. Andrew Dickson White infamously dismissed the invitation with the words "I refuse to let 40 of our boys travel 400 miles merely to agitate a pig’s bladder full of wind!” White saw little utility in nascent collegiate athletics.

George Atherton would act much differently eight years later at Penn State. Atherton saw in college football a catalyst to unify a campus that had little self-pride. He had brought football and given it a home in just over a decade as president of the University. Beaver Field was completed three years before the first collegiate hockey game.

Andrew Dickson White's suspicions of large-scale football lingered with Cornell. They presaged the Ivy League's eventual self-imposed postseason football ban. Cornell would become influential and prominent in football. It was Cornell that gave the sport Glenn "Pop" Warner and claimed five national titles. However, the Big Red's refusal to accept an invitation to the 1939 Rose Bowl manifested deep-seated suspicions of the sport that attached after White's comment in 1874.

College hockey was born in 1896. The sport would make its way to the frozen waters of Beebe Lake within four years's time. Andrew Dickson White had been absent from East Hill for a decade and half. The students of Cornell University needed a sport untainted by one of its founder's opinions that could unify them. Hockey became that sport.

Near Misses and a Collision

Preclusion was not a facet of the centrality of either sport at its respective campus. The football tradition of Cornell grew despite the early precedence of hockey. Hockey at Penn State was not ignored even though often it was neglected and forced to engage in pitted combat for its financial survival.

The 1909-10 season was a transformative one in the history of Cornell hockey. It was the season in which Cornell hired Talbot Hunter, the first coach to win a hockey championship for New York's land-grant university. Cornell began that season at Elysium Arena in Cleveland, OH. It was an inflection point for the program.

Separated by the time of one week and 135 miles to the southeast, Penn State began a similar journey on the evening of December 25, 1909. Penn State's first known organized hockey team was an invited member of an upstart league that rivaled the centralized and predominant Intercollegiate Hockey Association. The newly minted Pittsburgh Intercollegiate League was based out of Duquesne Gardens, where its first contests took place.

The Nittany Lions were greeted with tremendous support in Pittsburgh that season not unlike that which welcomed the Big Red to Chicago and Cleveland. Alumni and students supported their hockey program. Penn State dropped both of its contests in December 1909. Interestingly, an early eye cast toward Ithaca emerges in the coverage of the era.

The State Collegian reported that the "college game has made rapid strides in the last few years. Yale, Princeton, Cornell, Penn, Harvard, West Point, Dartmouth, Williams, Amherst, Tech, Pitt, and many other college have placed it on their athletic lists." Penn State knew that it wanted to be among those prestigious Eastern institutions. Hockey was an easy means of achieving that end.

The students of Penn State defended the continuance of hockey on these grounds. Editorials were written and opinions made known. They were to no avail. A vote of the Athletic Association of Penn State on January 21, 1910 defunded and denied Penn State hockey any further support from athletics at the institution.

Cornell and Penn State may have been separated by mere miles and days in their early collegiate hockey competitions, but their respective commitments to hockey could not have been further apart. While the latter dismantled a hopeful and youthful program, Cornell prepared for the winningest undefeated, untied season in college hockey yet. A perfect 10-0-0 season was a resounding success.

The Central Pennsylvanians noticed the rise of the Ithacans. On December 7, 1911, on the even of what could have been Penn State's third hockey season and what was Cornell hockey's ninth season, ThePenn State Collegianran a story aptly labeled "a plea for hockey." It captured thevolksgeistof the student body. What was implied in late 1909 and early 1910 was demanded outright in 1911. "Penn State in a few years, will undoubtedly takes it place among the big universities," it anticipated.

The article, relying on the parlance of the era, conceived of "big schools" as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, the colonial institutions with commitments to athletics. Drawing from Cornell's example, Penn Staters concluded, "there is a much greater chance of defeating [the big universities] in minor sports than in major." Administrative deaf ears were the audience for this impassioned plea. Penn State would need to wait another generation for collegiate hockey.

The first sustained era of Penn State hockey began in February 1938. A full season of 11 games was played for the 1939-40 season. The Nittany Lions would win three of them. The program would host only one confirmed home game in State College during its entire existence. The temperate weather of Central Pennsylvania was too much to maintain an ice surface and guarantee conditions that were safe and dependable for hockey contests.

Penn State, for similar but distinct reasons than those that plagued Cornell, had difficulties maintaining a home practice ice surface. From its early era onward, Cornell had attempted to drill and practice when needed. Odd games were canceled at Cornell, but Central New York in December through February is scarcely want of ice as was a problem in Central Pennsylvania. Penn State desired to experience it firsthand.

One of the earliest and certainly one of the most common programs to which Penn State reach out for contests was Cornell. The hockey players of the land-grant institution of Pennsylvania desired to square off with the Big Red of New York's land-grant institution. In the early days of the 1942-43 season, The Daily Collegiannoted that Penn State sent requests for contests to two institutions: the United States Naval Academy and Cornell University.

The possibility of a series or even rivalry was not ignored in Ithaca. Three distinct reciprocated attempts were made. No games were played. The inclimate nature of outdoor rinks forced the cancellation of all of those contests from 1938 until 1944. The 1943-44 season changed all of that.

Cornell and Penn State, much like they did during the First World War, occupied different niches in American culture and higher education than did the traditional universities of the nation. As land-grant institutions, training in the military arts was an integrated part of their missions. The outbreak of the Second World War threw the students of each university into the same crucible that gave collegiate hockey the heroism and martyrdom of greats of the game like Jefferson Vincent of Cornell and Hobey Baker of Princeton during the First World War.

The first and only direct meeting between the hockey programs of Cornell and Penn State occurred in an epoch when the male students of each institution were expected to drill each morning to be prepared to be called into the military service of their nation. Reflective of this change in timbre, the historic Cornell Daily Sun adopted the name The Cornell Bulletinand received only weekly publication. It was under this masthead and cloud that Cornell met Penn State on Beebe Lake.

The contest was the third contest of Cornell's 36th season. The Big Red had lost by a combined margin of 12 to two in its first outings against Army and Colgate. This edition of Cornell hockey had high expectations that would go unfulfilled. Nicky Bawlf was unpleased with his team's first efforts. He expected to exact repentance before the Penn State contest. The Bawlfmen were drilled and skated on Beebe Lake until exhaustion before the Nittany Lions arrived.

As is typical of Cornell even at its low points, Ed Carmen, the netminder, was lauded for his exemplary play. Red netminders even in a seasons that began with 12 allowed goals were celebrated. The Bulletinbemoaned a lack of defense and blocked shots in the first game. Yes, blocked shots were already a thing of beauty to East-Hill occupants.

Penn State needed to rely on the good graces of nature to practice. Flooded tennis courts were where it drilled and practice. Beaver Field where football was played would have been a much better option. Harvard Stadium was used to host the Crimson hockey team during the winter months. However, the centrality of football to the identify of Penn State made such an option too risky to imperil the football pitch. The Nittany Lions practiced little.

The result may have seemed a forgone conclusion in retrospect, but Penn State hockey team earned the respect of its Cornell counterparts. Cornell was the faster and more dominant of the teams. Unlike the Red's efforts against Colgate and Army, Cornell gained sustained pressure. The throngs of bundled fans several deep along Beebe Lake witnessed as Penn State managed to compete in its own end.

The first period expired with Cornell registering one goal. The game resumed in the second period much the same way. Penn State held off Cornell with considerable poise. The Big Red found an answer to Penn State's netminder three times before the final period. The disparities in training condition and tradition began to emerge in the third.

Four goals were scored in the last 20 minutes. The icers of Penn State seemed fatigued. Cornell finally had worn them down. Penn State did exact some respect of the tangible not sentimental variety. The Nittany Lions did best respected Cornell netminder Carmen once during the contest. Cornell registered its first and what would be only win of the 1943-44 season, a 7-1 defeat of Penn State.

It is unclear whether respect of the institutional, athletic, or both varieties made the Cornell-Penn State dynamic different than most others in Cornell's post-IHA era. The game was described as "exceedingly tight until the last period when lack of conditioning of the Penn State skaters told." The land-grant universities of that era exhibited a collegiality that few institutions did.

Cornell attempted to return a trip to Central Pennsylvania for the 1944-45 season. The contest would be canceled. This phenomenon is remarkable nonetheless. Cornell was wiling to travel to a rink whose conditions were more suspect out of an abundance of respect. A few decades previous, it is easy to show how the land-grant identities of schools affected this nature.

The hockey program of Boston University was a rising national power in the 1920s. The hockey program of the University of Massachusetts, a fellow land-grant university, was prominent but not preeminent. It was against Massachusetts, not Boston University, that Cornell hockey scheduled and played home-and-home series in the Beebe Lake Era. Boston University was forced to visit Central New York with no expectation of a return trip.

This connection that the land-grant universities shared could not save Penn State. Just years prior to the creation of the NCAA tournament, Penn State's first era in varsity hockey ended. Similarly, yet unexpectedly, Cornell would cancel its program in 1948. Cornell's program would return in 1957. Penn State would need to wait for intervention of fate and the help of an unexpected person to bring hockey back to Centre County, PA.

That Evening

The roads of Ithaca were a white haze. The driver could not leave the hitchhikers out in a Central New York snow squall. The hitchhiker who climbed in introduced himself. As the pair began their trek up the treacherous climb to what is "far above Cayuga's waters," a conversation began. The hitchhiker introduced himself. His name did not resonate with the driver. For future generations, it would be househeld.

Ken Dryden was the name of the stranded pedestrian. As one may expect of an alumnus of History at Cornell University who most famous written work is The Game, the conversation veered toward hockey. The driver, Larry Hendry, indicated that he had never seen a game at Lynah Rink. Dryden insisted; he must see a game at Lynah.

See a game he did. Hendry was a doctoral candidate in the Department of Chemistry and Chemical Biology at Cornell University. As a graduate student, he had little initial exposure to the zeal that had become Lynah Rink during Cornell hockey's second dynastic era. It changed upon Dryden's urging. Hendry became immersed in the culture and traditions of Cornell hockey.

Larry Hendry was graduated from Cornell University with a PhD in 1970. He had been afforded the chance to watch four consecutive ECAC Hockey championship teams and two NCAA title teams. His final year at Cornell coincided with Cornell's claiming the only national championship-winning undefeated, untied season in NCAA history. Hockey had become part of his essence.

The doctoral recipient shortly made the trip that no Cornell hockey team had. Hendry received a position at the Pennsylvania State University following his graduation. Cornell and Penn State were among only a handful of institutions to offer tenured faculty positions in Organic Chemistry in that era. The graduate expected to find hockey at Penn State. He would not. He began to notice leaflets that inquired why Penn State did not have hockey.

Hendry became the faculty figure to whom students who desired a hockey program at Penn State turned. The students were the impetus, but Hendry was the facilitator. The Cornell graduate and his Penn State undergraduate backers met administrative resistance. Hendry was not alone with his ECAC Hockey connections.

Dick Merkel, an alumnus of St. Lawrence University and the Pennsylvania State University, joined Larry Hendry as a faculty member who pushed for hockey at Penn State. Hendry and Merkel were shocked that an institution of 1,600 students like St. Lawrence could be a traditional power that filled its arena while Penn State with 23,000 students at the time had no program at all.

Hendry and his associates did manage to establish a hockey program. The group created the Penn State Hockey Club in the Fall of 1971. The Club drew so much attention that its members needed to be subdivided into pseudo-varsity and -junior varsity statuses. Many members counted Pennsylvania as their place of origin. Hendry noted that the team was far from exclusively Pennsylvania, "some veterans turned mentors were from rabid hockey bastions in Minnesota, Massachusetts and upstate New York." Some players hailed from Canada while others had previous playing experience at institutions like St. Lawrence.

Penn State had a team in its group of players of variable seasoning. The Icers, as they would become known, had a coach in Larry Hendry. They needed guidance and equipment.

The first jerseys in which the Penn State Icers played were provided by Joe Paterno. Worn or unneeded football jerseys served as improvised hockey sweaters when Hendry's Penn State team first took the ice. Those familiar with the history of the Icers know that Hendry's Dodge Dart returned from Pittsburgh with equipment that the Pittsburgh Penguins donated to jump start the program. What few know is another trip that his Dodge Dart took.

Larry Hendry had jerseys, some pads, and some skates. He needed other equipment. Specifically, he needed a supply of sticks. He may have needed some guidance also. The recent graduate of Cornell University decided that he would return to familiar territory for both. The Dodge Dart took him on the familiar route back to Ithaca.

Accounts differ with whom Hendry interacted at Cornell. Some claim that Ned Harkness remained his point of contact at Lynah Rink. Harkness had moved on to coach and manage the Detroit Red Wings by Fall of 1971 which makes it more likely that Dick Bertrand was the Cornell coach who assisted Hendry. However, Ned Harkness did maintain a home in Ithaca to serve as liaison for Cornell hockey during the transitional period that followed his departure.

Nevertheless, Hendry returned to Penn State with sticks that were given to him either at cost or free of charge. The first twigs in the foundation of the modern era of Penn State hockey came from Lynah Rink. With an improvised array of equipment, Hendry began his first season. He received something else from Cornell. A pledge of support and exposure that might have proved more lasting than the sticks that scored the first Icers'sgoals.

The team was grateful to Hendry. The Icers returned college hockey to Penn State during the 1971-72 season. Penn State, an institution that seeks to compete against the best, began to grow uneasy with its status as a club team even in the Winter of 1972. Students and players began to state that their goal was to gain admission into ECAC Hockey. The two schools that lured them to that conference were Boston College and, predictably, Cornell.

Cornell hockey's support of Penn State hockey came in many different forms. Few remember this reality, but Lynah Rink served as a host to the Penn State Icers at least twice during the 1971-72 season. On February 19, Penn State played Ithaca College at Lynah Rink. The title of Bombers may have been more appropriate for the Icers as the latter dropped the contest, 13-2. The more interesting reality is what Icers players learned a few days later.

Alumni of some of the first Penn State Icers squads recall how Cornell graciously allowed them to attend a contest at Lynah Rink. Bertrand's stated purpose for doing so was to expose the Penn State players and uninitiated coaches to what a college-hockey atmosphere could be at its best. The contest to which he invited them was the February 21, 1972. It was the Harvard game. Penn State already was in town.

Nearly two decades before Michigan hockey would repurpose and modify Cornell hockey's famed chants at Yost Ice Arena, Penn State hockey players were exposed to them as spectators on wooden bleachers in Lynah Rink. Importantly, it was the senior year of Neil Cohen. Cohen was not a player. He is the member of the Lynah Faithful celebrated for bringing the cowbell from the pasture into the Rink.

The blaring band, the clanging cowbell, the aggressive attendants, and the seething loathing between Cornell and Harvard left impressions on even the mostly disinterested Penn State Icers. Elenbaas registered 34 saves and showed what is expected of a goaltender of the highest calibre. SomeIcers still recall the relentless harassment of the Crimson's Bertagna. The Lynah Faithful ensured that Cornell never trailed. The Big Red won, 5-2, with a hopeful group of Penn Staters in the stands. That group imagined what Penn State hockey could become.

The Penn State Icers missed the germinal fish throw by one installment.

Penn State would play at Lynah Rink on December 16, 1972 during the next season. The Icers would lose again to Ithaca College. There is no indication that the Icers were invited to attend Cornell's contest against Boston University that occurred six days prior. The first great composure to Cornell hockey remained.

The hockey team of Penn State lost its on-campus home rink in 1978 when it became an indoor practice facility for football. It took the University three years to give the Icers an on-campus home. The Greenberg Ice Pavilion opened in 1981. It would serve as Penn State hockey's home through the dominance of the Icers, the creation of the ACHA, and the first season of NCAA Division I hockey.

The Pavilion contained one side of seating. Teams entered the ice walking from their locker rooms across the back side of the boards at one end of the ice. There, fans could heckle or support teams as they looked over the edge at the players filing onto the ice. A walkway extended from atop the stands at the opposite end of the ice to the rink's exterior wall. The capacity of the Ice Pavilion was a mere 1,200 people.

The plans for the building contained one interesting architectural detail. The wall opposite the 1,200 seats was non-weight-bearing. The plans for the Greenberg Ice Pavilion left open the possibility that if Penn State hockey continued to draw well, the external wall could be removed for additional seating. Such an expansion was expected to coincide with an elevation of the Penn State Icers to NCAA Division I. College-hockey fans know that no such expansion ever and no elevation occurred without the promise of Pegula Ice Arena, but imagine the shape of the Greenberg Ice Pavilion if it had expanded. Its atypical horseshoe-like shape would seem familiar to the Lynah Faithful.

Lasting Connections

Larry Hendry's last season leading the Penn State Icers was the 1971-72 season. He led them to an 11-6-0 record. It may not have resembled the 29-0-0 season that he witnessed during his final year at Cornell, but it was the beginning of something ground-breaking. Hendry blazed the path that brought Joe Battista to Penn State, allowed the Icers to guide the creation of the ACHA, led to Penn State's record seven ACHA national championships, and enabled Penn State's unique position as a club team that hosted summer hockey campus. All of which resulted in Terry and Kim Pegula's gift to the Pennsylvania State University. That is, in Penn State hockey circles, Larry Hendry's resuscitation of a hockey program at Penn State is referred to as "the Miracle of '71."

The interplay between Cornell and Penn State has been important to both institutions. It was Ned Harkness or Dick Bertrand who ensured that Larry Hendry's first squad was equipped. It was Dick Bertrand who gave the first large group of Penn Staters its first exposure to an elite college-hockey atmosphere. It was a Penn Stater in attendance who chose to imitate Neil Cohen's characteristic clanging of a cowbell months later at Beaver Stadium which gave rise to a tradition in Penn State's preeminent pastime. It was the respect born between two programs from schools with similar missions after a result that should have imbued little. It was the near misses in the early 20th Century. It was the ways that Penn State drew upon Cornell as a model of perfect integration of classical and modern education. It was the way that Penn State's savior saved the legacy of Ezra Cornell first.

The interplay has been long lived. It extends beyond athletics. It has touched the identities of each institution.

Special recognition is owed to Kyle Rossi. His work while Thank You Terry was published made Penn Staters and college-hockey fans aware of the proud and deep history of hockey at the Pennsylvania State University. None of the information within this post regarding the records of Penn State Icers teams or the venues that Penn State called or endeavored to call home would be possible without his considerable efforts. Additionally, his narrative of the history of Penn State augments and informs much of the narrative that this writer uses in comparing and contrasting hockey at Cornell and Penn State. Thank You Terry and he remain the best resources for Penn State hockey history.

There is no place like home. Cornell hockey has proven the truth behind that sentiment for generations. Proponents and opponents alike speak of Lynah Rink in hushed tones that accompany the descriptions of few sporting venues. The scars of pivotal games lost and seasons ended in East Hill's house of horrors mar the record books of even the most successful programs of Eastern hockey. Nevertheless, the Big Red has claimed a home away from home since its earliest moments.

Befitting the land-grant university of a sprawling and diverse state, the hockey teams of Cornell University have made rinks resting along the banks of the Hudson nearly as homey as the Red's traditional home nestled in the breast of the Finger Lakes. Hockey teams of Cornell have squared off against opponents in contests in Manhattan for over a century.At least four venues have hosted Cornell hockey contests. Cornell has played in at least 36 games in the nation's largest city. The Big Red has emerged victorious in 19 and settled for a tie but once in all of those contests.

Camaraderie among the Cornell community pervade Red Hot Hockey and the Frozen Apple which make both nearly unique.

The Future

Red Hot Hockey and the Frozen Apple are the largest midseason spectacles for college hockey. The capacity of Madison Square Garden may have decreased since the completion of its $1.0-billion renovations, but the devotion and antics that the Lynah Faithful, Cornell fans, and Cornell alumni bring to the venue each Thanksgiving Weekend has not tapered at all. Mike Schafer likened playing at Madison Square Garden every season as having a midseason bowl game. The revered coach believes that no adequate parallel exists for the passion of a single game than likening it to a college-football bowl game. This description applies equally well to Red Hot Hockey and the Frozen Apple.

The Nittany Lions of Penn State are Cornell's second opponent in the Frozen Apple. Having a pedigree rooted more in unequaled ACHA Division 1 success than the traditional dominance of NCAA Division I like Cornell's first Frozen-Apple opponent, Penn State threatens to upset Cornell in both the stands and on the ice. Penn Staters are known for their devoted following of their teams. The Nittany Lions may represent the gravest threat to Cornell's control of its Manhattan territory yet. The Lynah Faithful need to turn out in droves.

Lynah Rink forever will be Cornell hockey's home. Nonetheless, it is appropriate that Cornell's de facto homecoming celebration has centered around the University's best-followed sport in the program's historic home away from home. Whether you are a Cornellian from New York City who travels a short distance, New York State who descends upon the City, or somewhere else entirely who journeys to watch Cornell hockey and reconnect with alumni, the centrality of this event to the University is not overstated. Or, even if you are among the supporters of the opposition who comes to support your fans among the overwhelming legions wearing carnelian and white, we all are part of what makes this weekend of college hockey unparalleled during the regular season.

Cornellians of all origins have traveled to New York City to make it feel as welcoming as Lynah Rink or Beebe Lake before it. Cornell hockey has played in 36 games over a span of 111 years in the city that never sleeps. The Red have an all-time record of 0.556 in the Five Burroughs. This winning percentage climbs to 0.591 when focusing on performances at the current Madison Square Garden. No statistics can capture adequately that it is the encouragement of the Big Red and the harassment of its opponents that the Lynah Faithful dole out which makes Cornell's game in New York City home games away from home.

There is no place like home. Cornell hockey has proven the truth behind that sentiment for generations. Proponents and opponents alike speak of Lynah Rink in hushed tones that accompany the descriptions of few sporting venues. The scars of pivotal games lost and seasons ended in East Hill's house of horrors mar the record books of even the most successful programs of Eastern hockey. Nevertheless, the Big Red has claimed a home away from home since its earliest moments.

Befitting the land-grant university of a sprawling and diverse state, the hockey teams of Cornell University have made rinks resting along the banks of the Hudson nearly as homey as the Red's traditional home nestled in the breast of the Finger Lakes. Hockey teams of Cornell have squared off against opponents in contests in Manhattan for over a century.At least four venues have hosted Cornell hockey contests. Cornell has played in at least 36 games in the nation's largest city. The Big Red has emerged victorious in 19 and settled for a tie but once in all of those contests.

Red Hot Hockey's history includes drawing the largest college-hockey crowd in an NHL arena and incorporation of a rivalry trophy.

Embracing the Past and the Present

Hockey East's creation from a splitter of ECAC Hockey imperiled one of college hockey's greatest rivalries. Boston University and Cornell battled for supremacy in the East since 1967. The Terriers and Big Red met in four title games, two for the NCAA national championship and two for the ECAC Hockey championship. The titanssplit the results. Over an 11-season span between 1966 and 1977, Boston University and Cornell each won the ECAC Hockey tournament five times. Cornell earned one more such championship before The Divorce than did Boston University. Hindsight renderscuriousJack Parker's aiding Mike Schaferin Cornell hockey's resettlingNew York City as a second home.

After meeting 30 times as ECAC Hockey members, Boston University and Cornell battled on the ice only eight times between 1984 and 2007. During the 2001-02 and 2002-03 seasons, Boston University and Cornell sojourned to each other's hallowed barns in a home-and-home series. The Big Red split at Walter Brown Arena and swept at Lynah Rink. The Red's home sweep at Lynah Rink was the last series in which both traditional foes grappled. Arivalry that knew so many superlative stages begged for them once more.

Ravenous appetites on opposite sides of the ECAC Hockey-Hockey East chasm demanded the same satiation. Cornell University, with its medical campus in New York City since 1898, coveted an attention-garnering and university-uniting event in Manhattan. Cornell pushed to realize this ambition after the implosion of the Holiday Hockey Festival. Boston University was presented with the limited opportunity to host a large-scale college hockey event at Madison Square Garden. Jack Parker served as the unlikely matchmaker who married the interests of Boston University and Cornell University.

Mike Lynch, director of athletics at Boston University, pressured the legendary Terriers coach to choose a premier opponent to headline what would become college hockey's mid-season showcase affair. Parker dispensed with the possibility ofBoston College and Minnesota as potential opponents. The answer was clear. He recounted in 2007, "I thought that the only way this would work would be if BU played Cornell and if it was in Madison Square Garden." The eventual three-time national championship coach recognized the clout of Cornell in New York City.

Jack Parker relied upon his collegial relationship with Mike Schafer when he reached out to East Hill. The two coaches who enjoyed legendary status in the histories of their respective programs knew that their envisioned game would be a success. However, they undersold its reach and scale as plans began to finalize.

Cornell had never played Boston University at either Madison Square Garden. The carnelian and scarlet wardrobes of the two programs made Red Hot Hockey the obvious label for the rivalry as played at The Garden. Parker imagined "the best part about [Red Hot Hockey] will be the fact that the players on both teams will get to experience that type of atmosphere against a big rival in a game they should remember for a long, long time." Schafer predicted modestly that "[Red Hot Hockey] could get up into the 11 to 12,000 range just based on how fanatical our fans are and how loyal our alumni are."

As the game approached, Schafer and Parker realized how wrong their predictions were. The then-four-time ECAC Hockey championship coach summarized, "it's kind of taken off. And it's gotten to the point now where it's just phenomenal." The bench boss from Boston just took to joking that Cornell alone was going to bring tens of thousands of fans. Neither prediction was overstated.

The turnstiles rotated for thousands of fans that evening in November. On one of those revolutions, it should have counted for every spectator in attendance. One of the spectators scarcely could have gone unnoticed if he wanted. He did not. It was his entourage and he who precipitated all things that changed the scene of college hockey that evening.

Ned Harkness attended the first edition of Red Hot Hockey. Members of his 1967 and 1970 NCAA championship teams accompanied him. They received thunderous applause of respect and gratitude during their ceremonial recognition. From the ice on which he had won two tournaments, Harkness basked in the phenomenon that Cornell hockey had become. The only coach to lead an undefeated, untied team would pass away just months later.

The result that Cornell suffered was unlike any that the Big Red had during the era of Jack Kelley and Ned Harkness. Ray Sawada and Topher Scott captained Cornell in its first game against Boston University in five years. The first edition of Red Hot Hockey did not treat Cornell well. It ended in Cornell's largest losing margin in New York City in 45 years. The Terriers raced out to a three-goal lead within 11 minutes. Cornell could bring the scoring gap within two goals just once. An absence of 31 years did not make New York regard Cornell more fondly than it had.

The Lynah Faithful and Cornell alumnisold out Madison Square Garden on November 24, 2007 with 18,200 spectators taking in the contest.In an datum that foreshadowed a later trend for all subsequent Cornell games at The Garden, 70-75% of those in attendance were Cornell partisans. The gaggle of Lynah Faithful and alumni proved less fickle than Cornell's second home. It contributed to what was then the largest crowd to watch a regular-season college-hockey game at an NHL venue.

Boston University and Cornell University agreed future editions were required. The two institutions and programs elected to host the game biennially on the Saturday following Thanksgiving. The former safeguarded against dilution of a valuable and passion-filled product. The latter guaranteed that students and alumni of both institutions in the Greater New York area would ritualize these holiday trips to Madison Square Garden.

Controversy consumed the second and third editions of Red Hot Hockey. November 2009 arrived quickly. Nevertheless, no shortage of major events occurred before the second Manhattan meeting. Boston University won its fifth national title in April 2009. Cornell iced a championship-calibre and national title-contending team for the first time in four seasons for the 2009-10 season. Past challenged potential.

Clutch goal scorers Sean Whitney and Locke Jillson gave Cornell a two-goal lead early in Red Hot Hockey II. A special-teams gaffe led to the Terriers's conversion of a shorthanded opportunity. Blake Gallagher potted his median goal of a season that would see 18 goals leave his stick. The third period began with Cornell defending a two-goal lead with Ben Scrivens in the blue paint. Behind the hallmarks of defense and goaltending, Cornell was positioned to win.

Boston University narrowed the lead to one with just under 16 minutes remaining. In the final 3:20 of the contest, Cornell committed two penalties. A five-on-three opportunity was the predictable result. As Miami learned in Washington, DC, nothing is predictable with Parker. Jack Parker tilted his hand about his personal investment in the rivalry when he opted to create a six-on-three situation with his choice to pull Rollheiser. The Big Red killed over a minute of that disadvantage, but the Terriers converted shortly after the Red regained Brendon Nash.

A second sell-out crowd of 18,200 at Madison Square Garden was grand. A tie that felt like a loss to the Red contingent was not. Cornell would go on to win its 12th ECAC Hockey championship. The feeling of disappointment barely abated. Riding a home shutout streak of three games, sophomore goaltender Andy Iles led Cornell into Red Hot Hockey III. His streak would extend to five games.

Prophetically, carnelian, not home white, was the color donned by Cornell in the third Red Hot Hockey. The two teams alternated as the home team. The emotions before the game indicated that some who counted themselves as the newer converts to Boston University and Cornell fandom found Red Hot Hockey to be stale and unrelatable. They would not leave Madison Square Garden cradling those sentiments.

As the second edition had ended, the third began. Boston University converted on a two-man advantage to take the lead midway through the first period. Cornell stifled Boston University for the remainder of regulation. Sean Whitney, native of Scituate, MA, played the hero again as he carried the puck from the blue line to challenge Milan. His attempt bounced cleanly off of the netminder's pad. A rebound danced outward. Locke Jillson buckled the twine to tie the game.

John Esposito unleashed a shot from the point that deflected off of the glass behind the Boston University net. The rubber disc arced behind Milan and landed in the net. Few in the building saw the puck's landing. Then, the arena began playing a replay on its scoreboard. The Cornell-dominated crowd unleashed its sieve chant with the fury of 14,000 voices as the officials reviewed the play. An officiating crew from Hockey East reviewed the goal. With rumors of debate among its members, the crew decided that an errant whistle sounded before the goal. The goal was waived. Boston University endured regulation and scored around the midpoint of overtime.

Apathy was no longer a component of Red Hot Hockey. The series had regained its controversial or villainous elements for a new era. Members of the Faithful from all generations believed that Hockey-East officiating deprived their program of an earned win. Boston University fans knew that their favored team escaped a close contest that probably it should have lost, but now wielded a cruel poker to stoke the ire of Cornell fans.

The Terrier loyalists were shaken shortly after Boston University and Cornell were invited to the 2012 NCAA Tournament months later. The Terriers met Minnesota. The Big Red faced off against second overall seed Michigan. The Gophers piled on seven goals against Boston University. Four hours later, Cornell toppled a legitimate national-title contender in Michigan. The Terriers grappled with accepting that the dynamic that existed between Boston University and Cornell was not as they conceived after their demoralizing 7-3 loss.

What did Cornell University see in its defeat of Michigan in the 2012 NCAA Midwest Regional Semifinal? Undoubtedly, it gazed upon an excellent opportunity. With Cornell's disproportionate role in selling out Madison Square Garden, Mike Schafer and Cornell University desired to make Cornell hockey in Manhattan an annual Thanksgiving-Weekend tradition. Odd-numbered years would remain sequential editions of Red Hot Hockey. Even-numbered years would become a new event entirely. The Frozen Apple was created.

The idea of using Madison Square Garden as Cornell's second home accepted existing realities in college hockey. An enclave of major programs refused to travel to some smaller, but historic, venues. Cornell under Mike Schafer refused to play away games at a program's venue if that program would not reciprocate with a trip to Lynah Rink. The hostility of Lynah Rink and Cornell's high rate of winning in that venue exacerbated the problem for major programs that wished to avoid self-perceived embarrassment.

The Frozen Apple proved to be an unignorable temptation for major programs. It struck a perfect balance. Those programs could play on a big stage, often in front of large bases of fans and alumni in the Greater New York area, without needing to brave hostile and traditional Lynah Rink. Cornell could guarantee a large payout and refuse a return trip.

Schafer had found an event both to ensure Cornell was annually tested against the nation's elite hockey programs and to showcase Cornell hockey to a growing contingent of the University's student who studied in New York City. Cornell University's defeat of Stanford University in bidding for New York City's land grant for a high-tech campus on Roosevelt Island in December 2011 contributed to the latter consideration. Former President Frank H. T. Rhodes's "land-grant university to the world" again had found sure footing in alumnus E. B. White's "capital of the modern world."

The opponents whom the Lynah Faithful desired to see Cornell face most were Michigan, Notre Dame, Penn State, and Wisconsin. Privately, Cornell hockey approached Michigan to be its first opponent in the Frozen-Apple series. Fortuitously, Cornell's 3-2 overtime defeat of the Wolverines in the 2012 national tournament made the first installment emotionally captivating for both the zealous Children of Yost and Lynah Faithful.

The Frozen Apple 2012 sold out in habitual fashion. Maize and blue dotted one corner of the famed venue, but carnelian and white dominated. Unlike Red Hot Hockey where the colors of the two historic belligerents blur, the first Frozen Apple was one of contrast. Michigan sought to prove its loss in the national tournament to Cornell was anomalous. Cornell knew that it was not.

The Big Red shutout Michigan until the final 10:35 of play. To support wounded veterans of the armed services, Cornell abandoned its traditional threads during the second period and wore urban-camouflage jerseys bearing characteristic carnelian bands on the sleeves and waist. The jerseys were auctioned off to raise money for the Wounded Warrior Project. Despite its change of attire, the Red's effort remained the same.

Andy Iles was unflappable. Cornell added two goals in the second and third periods to Joel Lowry's scoring-opening goal. Senior forward and three-season point leader Greg Miller scored the last goal of each of those stanzas on even strength. Cornell's leading scorer shone just blocks away from Broadway. The 5-1 victory over Michigan that he spearheaded was Cornell's first triumph in New York City in 36 years. Schafer breathed a sigh of relief, "it was nice to finally win down here."

Red Hot Hockey IV was unlike its predecessors. Something more tangible than bragging rights was at stake. Alumni of Boston University and Cornell University, perhaps noticing the waning interest in the rivalry among new generations of fans prior to Red Hot Hockey III, endowed a championship trophy to be exchanged every time that the Terriers and the Big Red meet. The trophy would be awarded its first time at Red Hot Hockey IV.

Even though now led by a coach who lived little of the Boston University-Cornell rivalry, the Terriers were no less motivated to defend the legacy of their legendary coach, Jack Kelley. Misfortune in the forms of planted skates and unfortunate bounces allowed Boston University to gain a three-goal lead with less than 18 minutes remaining in the contest. The Terriers embodied opportunism. Cornell responded with a dirty goal off of Christian Hilbrich's foot and a dazzlingly high-paced cross-ice connection from John McCarron to Cole Bardreau. Matt O'Connor stood enormously in Boston University's crease.

It was O'Connor who etched Kelley's name onto the future trophy in the primary position. Cornell lost in the one statistic that mattered despite utter control of all other phases of the contest. The alumni who endowed the trophy had agreed that the program that won would place the name of its legendary coach before that of his famous adversary. Boston University hoisted the Kelley-Harkness Cup on November 30, 2013.

Red Hot Hockey placed itself on another plane from all other college-hockey events. It is the only college-hockey event that has recurred four times and sold out an NHL venue in absolute terms in all of its editions. Jack Parker recalled often that his "most memorable game as a player was the 1967 ECAC Championship game at the Boston Garden...that was the largest crowd ever at the old Boston Garden." Red Hot Hockey ensures that new eras of Boston University and Cornell players will experience the near-insanity and have their games at Madison Square Garden as contenders for their own most memorable.

Greg Miller delivered the best performance of a Cornell player at The Garden in nearly four decades for the first Frozen Apple.

There is no place like home. Cornell hockey has proven the truth behind that sentiment for generations. Proponents and opponents alike speak of Lynah Rink in hushed tones that accompany the descriptions of few sporting venues. The scars of pivotal games lost and seasons ended in East Hill's house of horrors mar the record books of even the most successful programs of Eastern hockey. Nevertheless, the Big Red has claimed a home away from home since its earliest moments.

Befitting the land-grant university of a sprawling and diverse state, the hockey teams of Cornell University have made rinks resting along the banks of the Hudson nearly as homey as the Red's traditional home nestled in the breast of the Finger Lakes. Hockey teams of Cornell have squared off against opponents in contests in Manhattan for over a century.At least four venues have hosted Cornell hockey contests. Cornell has played in at least 36 games in the nation's largest city. The Big Red has emerged victorious in 19 and settled for a tie but once in all of those contests.

Famed goaltender Laing Kennedy was one of the few positives from Cornell's first appearance in the Holiday Hockey Festival.

﻿Merry Christmases and Happy New Years﻿

A generation elapsed before Cornell played its next contest within the Five Burroughs. During this passage of 41 years, Columbia, Cornell's last opponent in New York City, lost its hockey program indefinitely, both the Chrysler Building and Empire State Building dueled above the City, Cornell hockey was cancelled and resurrected, Lynah Rink's construction prompted Cornell hockey's final move from Beebe Lake, and ECAC Hockey was founded. Like how the architectural firm of Cornellian Richmond Shreve changed the Midtown Manhattan skyline forever with its design of the Empire State Building, ECAC Hockey with Cornell as its standard bearer altered the sporting landscape of Downstate New York.

ECAC Hockey, founded in 1961, desired inroads into the athletics scene and media market of New York City. The league was coterminous with Eastern hockey for nearly a quarter-century. Establishing roots in Manhattan was a covetous boondoggle. The Conference commenced hosting a Holiday Hockey Festival at Madison Square Garden in the league's first winter.

The Holiday Hockey Festival was an invitational tournament of members of ECAC Hockey. The tournament matured and incorporated first-round byes for ECAC Hockey members, consolation games, and out-of-conference foes including Minnesota and Notre Dame, at various times. The winner of a given Hockey Festival was not guaranteed an automatic rightto defend its crown the next season. The tournament continued for 15 years.

No invitation arrived at Lynah Rink for the first Holiday Hockey Festival. Interestingly, it would not be the first time that ECAC Hockey snubbed Cornell in such a manner. The most common invitees to the Holiday Hockey Festivals do not count Cornell as a member. The North-Country duet of Clarkson and St. Lawrence hold that distinction with 10 and 11 invitations respectively. Cornell was invited to less than half of the holiday tournaments. Despite the Big Red's receiving invitations to only seven Holiday Hockey Festivals, the Red icers won the greatest number of tournament titles.

The championships won in the Decembers of 1965, 1967, and 1969, and the January of 1975 are without any doubt the fondest to recount, but the tournaments of 1962, 1964, and 1976 left their marks on Cornell hockey's legacy in Manhattan. Cornell did little in its first two outings at Madison Square Garden to prove its deservingness to be in one of ECAC Hockey's mid-season marquee event.

Paul Patten led his Red skaters into the 37-year-old building on Eighth Avenue between 49th and 50th Streets. This third iteration of Madison Square Garden greeted its first visitors from Cornell in much the same way that St. Nicholas Rink had. Undaunted, Cornell proved its appeal to the New-York market with its drawing 6,275 fans to The Garden for a preliminary contest.

While fans had notice of Cornell's invitation to the Holiday Hockey Festival, the Big Red's defense clearly did not. Seemingly unchallenged, Clarkson and St. Lawrence took turns unleashing barrages on Laing Kennedy. In the tradition of Vail before him, Kennedy stood tall in New York with his making 60 saves against St. Lawrence, but his team surrendered eight goals in each contest.

Manhattan continued to be a fickle mistress to Cornell when the Ithacans received their second invitation to play in the Holiday Hockey Festival. Cornell finished fifth in the 1964 Holiday Hockey Festival behind a disappointing loss to Brown and a win over St. Lawrence. In characteristic Ned Harkness fashion, he did not take long to deconstruct, strategize, andwin the tournament. Cornell received an invitation for the 1965 tournament.

Never a place for accepting anything less than excellence, the valley around East Hill echoed with discontentment. The Holiday Hockey Festival was "the burying grounds for Cornell hockey hopes." In 1965, it was Colgate's netminder who had to deliver an awe-inspiring performance to salvage even a glimmer of hope for his squad.

Championship defense dazzled Cornell's fans and alumni in attendance as Harry Orr, Ed Sauer, and all-time great defenseman Skip Stanowski protected Dave Quarrie in the Red crease. It was Stanowski's shot from the point that captain Doug Ferguson collected and tucked away to give Cornell a lead over St. Lawrence in the Red's second game. Doug Ferguson added another goal to put Cornell over the Saints, 5-2.

The 1965 Holiday Hockey Festival championship was the first tournament that Harkness won as Cornell's head coach. The Big Red was mere months removed from winning its second actual championship, the 1966 Ivy League title, but the midseason tournament taught valuable lessons to the sophomore and junior classes that would lead Cornell to its first NCAA title a year later.

Ken Dryden led Cornell into Madison Square Garden in December 1967. He was one game removed from shutting out Harvard in Cambridge, MA. Dryden and Harkness' well drilled defense held down the back end while Cornell's forwards dominated play in Clarkson's and then Brown's territory. Dryden had a personal vendetta. The Providence-based Ivy Leaguers wrested from the "big kid" his first collegiate game allowing more than three goals. The national-champion netminder would exact revenge. In front of 8,100 fans who favored Cornell overwhelmingly, Brown bowed to Cornell, 3-2. The John Reed Kilpatrick Trophy returned to Central New York.

The importance of games, opponents, or events can be gauged fairly precisely by which players find it in themselves to deliver their greatest performances at those moments. There is perhaps no better series of games in New York City that prove the importance of Cornell's forays in Manhattan than the 1969 Holiday Hockey Festival. Brian Cropper allowed just two goals on 54 shots, including a shutout of RPI, proving what Wisconsin would learn shortly, even the diminutive can tower in tournament play.

New York City was Cornell's territory. Any opposing fans who had misconceptions about this reality had those views rectified quickly between December 22 and 23. In just two games at Madison Square Garden, the first two played at the fourth rendition of the famed venue, 12 skaters in carnelian and white tallied a point. Dick Bertrand, Larry Fullan, John Hughes, and Dan Lodboa, constituting one-third of point producers over the weekend, notched five or more points. In the RPI semifinal, captain John Hughes delivered a two-goal, four-point effort. Dick Bertrand, captain and future bench boss of the Big Red, made spectators grapple with the choice of honoring a hockey tradition or bracing for the brisk weather when he tallied a hat trick against St. Lawrence.

In three consecutive invitations to the Holiday Hockey Festival, Cornell dominated the tournament field and emerged triumphant. Ivy League and ECAC Hockey championships followed each of those seasons. A second NCAA national title followed the third holiday crown. The first time that Cornell faced off below the iconic wagon wheel of the current Madison Square Garden's ceiling, the carnelian and white embarrassed opponents by outscoring them eight to one. Perhaps in deference to some conception of equity, Cornell remained uninvited to the Holiday Hockey Festival for six years.

When Cornell returned in January of 1975, Cornell hockey was on the cusp of one of the highest-scoring eras in its history. If prevention of embarrassing programs was the goal of Cornell's imposed absence, it was certainly not the result. The Big Red burst back onto the scene of the Big Apple in a manner much like it had left. The Red skaters put up 17 goals. The total inched past Cornell's performance at Madison Square Garden in 1969 by one goal. However, Boston College and St. Lawrence were able to preserve some of their dignities with their scoring seven goals and four goals respectively. Both fell by three-goal margins.

Dick Bertrand, in his sixth season as head coach, led Cornell into Madison Square Garden in consecutive years. Cornell's 1975 appearance in ECAC Hockey's holiday tournament in New York City resulted in another mid-season tournament title. Bertrand's second attempt would not. A contest that saw six goals but only one even-strength marker ended with the Golden Knights of Clarkson doubling up the Big Red of Cornell. In what would serve as Cornell's last game at Madison Square Garden for decades, Cornell quadrupled Penn for an 8-2 margin of victory against a Quakers program that limped on for only two more seasons.

ECAC Hockey ceased sponsoring the Holiday Hockey Festival in 1977. Its final champion was Boston University. It was only the Terriers' second title in the midseason tournament. Jack Kelley had won the first for Boston University during a season when Cornell was not invited. Jack Parker won the 1977 holiday prize. The collapse of the Conference's marquee midseason event quickly became the least of Commissioner Scotty Whitelaw's concerns when a faction of New England programs separated from the East's oldest conference.

John Hughes was one of the leaders who carried his team to its third consecutive Holiday Hockey Festival title in 1969.

There is no place like home. Cornell hockey has proven the truth behind that sentiment for generations. Proponents and opponents alike speak of Lynah Rink in hushed tones that accompany the descriptions of few sporting venues. The scars of pivotal games lost and seasons ended in East Hill's house of horrors mar the record books of even the most successful programs of Eastern hockey. Nevertheless, the Big Red has claimed a home away from home since its earliest moments.

Befitting the land-grant university of a sprawling and diverse state, the hockey teams of Cornell University have made rinks resting along the banks of the Hudson nearly as homey as the Red's traditional home nestled in the breast of the Finger Lakes. Hockey teams of Cornell have squared off against opponents in contests in Manhattan for over a century. At least four venues have hosted Cornell hockey contests. Cornell has played in at least 36 games in the nation's largest city. The Big Red has emerged victorious in 19 and settled for a tie but once in all of those contests.

St. Nicholas Rink was the first home that Cornell hockey made for itself in New York City, 1902-14

No Roof Over Its Head

﻿Cornell hockey's success in Gotham did not begin ceremoniously. February 22, 1902 was not a high-water mark in the history of Cornell hockey. The game was described as "fast and hard" by the media in attendance. The opponent was Yale. In a turn of fate that is a clear anachronism, accounts indicate that Yale executed a far superior defensive game than did the Ithacans. Cornell disrupted many offensive opportunities from the Elis, but the oldest hockey program in the United States claimed victory that day.

Cornell's first foray into Downstate hockey ended disappointingly in a 5-0 loss. Each team injured a player of its challenger's squad. Cornell's Lewis, who was struck over the eye, did remain in the contest. Cornell played almost exclusively in its end during both halves.

The Big Red would not need to wait too long for redemption. The second and third contests that the Cornell icersplayed in New York City occurred in January 1903. St. Nicholas Rink generously hosted again. The star of Cornell's first win was forward Lewis. He was one of the injured parties in the previous year's contest. Armstrong and Preston joined a Cornell scoring rush that toppled Princeton, 4-0.

The uncoachedCornell squad proved unable to focus after an emotional win. The Big Red succumbed to the reigning national champion Bulldogs of Yale the next day.

It took the arrival of Cornell's second coach for the Big Red to establish dominance in Manhattan commensurate with itseffervescingnational dominance. Talbot Hunter led his charges in four contests at St. Nicholas Rink during the 1909-10 season. Princeton, Harvard, Yale, and Columbia were the opponents in order for those meetings.

The Princeton and Harvard contests were played with three days of separation. The Yale and Columbia contests occurred with the former coming a month after the Princeton game and the latter a month after the former. The path from idyllic Central New York to the bustling city was well trodden.

Cornell would win the back half of the series, sweeping Yale and Columbia by a combined margin of 10-2. It is the second loss that is remembered. In the first meeting of the archrivals, Cornell and Harvard played a slow-paced game that experienced no scoring in the first half. This gave way in the second half to a Crimson-tinted pummeling that embarrassed Cornell, 5-0. The centrality of the Cornell-Harvard rivalry to the history of Cornell hockey and New York City's hosting of the first contest between the archnemeses illustrate the impactful role that Cornell's games in Manhattan always have had on Cornell's hockey tradition.

The ninth hockey team to represent Cornell University was a team of destiny. This second squad of Talbot Hunter would record one of the Big Red's five perfect seasons in hockey. An all but inevitable national title laid at the end of its run. Predictably, St. Nicholas Rink, as the nation's premier skating venue in the early 20th Century, waited in anticipation for many of college hockey's greatest moments as Cornell began its season in the West.

At 69 West 66th Street on the northeast corner of 66th Street and Columbus Avenue stood hockey's greatest venue for generations. It bore the name of St. Nicholas Rink. More suitably, it would have born the appellation "palace." Much like the Victoria Skating Rink in Montreal that birthed the game of hockey into existence, St. Nicholas Rink would leave modern observers with the impression of a grand dance or banquet hall.

Seating was limited. It was not in short demand. The venue became crowded regularly. The sprawling artificial ice surface conquered the greatest area of the arena. Deliberate and ornate pillars extended from the primitive boards that framed the ice to the soaring ceiling. Alternating between pillars, arches rose and descended to frame the game for spectators on the second tier. Those in attendance crowded along the railings that restrained them on the second story. Descending from the heavens of the venue were lamps to illuminate the heated contests below. The attire of most attendants was typically of the tie variety, black or white, that is. St. Nicholas Rink exhibited the grandiosity that one would have expected of a venue that John Jacob Astor and Cornelius Vanderbilt benefacted. As the pond represents hockey in its purest, untainted form, arenas like St. Nicholas Rink were its first great coliseums.

Greatness proportional to its setting was exactly what Cornell brought to St. Nicholas Rink during its 1910-11 season. Famed winger Jefferson Vincent scored one minute and 15 seconds into Cornell's first contest in Manhattan. Princeton knew that the team from New York's land-grant university would win the day. Cornell defeated Princeton, the defending national champion, by a 4-1 final margin. The crowd at St. Nicholas Rink was pleased.

Yale was the next victim to Cornell hockey's emergence as the home team in New York City. The game had drawn considerable interest from the alumni of both schools and large swaths of the Downstate public. "Great interest is being shown in tonight's game and a large attendance is predicted," boasted The Yale Daily News.

The Bulldogs of Connecticut fared one goal better than did the Tigers of New Jersey, but their fate was no more kind. Pucks leaving Vincent's stick were kept out of the Elis's net for an impressive three minutes. Crassweller scored from center ice. Magner scored on a one-man, length-of-the-ice breakaway. Vincent added a second tally. Vail drew applause with every save. The Big Red could do no wrong in Manhattan.

Even the natives of Morningside Heights found themselves out of sorts against Cornell at St. Nicholas Rink. Columbia departed for its short trip back to campus with a 4-0 loss to Talbot Hunter's 1910-11 squad. As Cornell was undefeated and widely supported everywhere else during the 1910-11 season, it was unsurprising that it would be undefeated and overwhelmingly supported at St. Nicholas Rink.

Cornell's margin of victory was one and a half times greater in Manhattan than it was when playing IHA opponents elsewhere. The Big Red posted its only shutout of an IHA opponent in the friendly confines of St. Nicholas Rink. Cornell had become New York.

Cornell's run of success in New York City suffered a slight downturn over the next several seasons. From the end of the 1910-11 season through that of the 1913-14 season, Cornell posted three losses at St. Nicholas Rink. The collapse of the IHAcaused Cornell to cultivate contests with Upstate New York foes rather than seek contests within the City. This necessitated a seven-year absence between Cornell contests played in New York City. Cornell returned in 1921.

Nicky Bawlf, the longest tenured coach in Cornell hockey history, drilled his squad in anticipation of a return to New York City. The contest, unlike all thosethat Cornell played previously in Manhattan, was not played at St. Nicholas Rink. The match was held at Columbia University's home rink, the 181st Street Ice Palace. The reunion of the City and Cornell was a spectacle.

Reflecting drastic changes in the game over a mere seven years, hockey now was played in three periods rather than two halves. The essence was immutable. Whether one played it on a natural pond or an artificial ice surface, it remained Cornell's impassioned pastime.

Columbia and Cornell were tied after two periods. Both New York-based teams had solved the opposing netminder twice. Columbia leapt to an early third-period lead. Cornell responded. As if anticipating that this would be Cornell's last contest in New York City for a generation, the Red ignited for four rapid tallies to gain the lead and expand its margin to three goals. The deluge of Ithacan goals came with but a few minutes remaining in the contest. Finn and Thornton led Cornell as its decimated Columbia, proving to the team and fans alike that while Columbia might be hosted in New York City, the City's great love was Cornell.

A depiction of a contest at St. Nicholas Rink during the Big Red's heyday there.

Do you hear that? The subtle sound of collapse and release; congelation and separation; aggregation and disintegration. One can hear almost the retrieval of the relinquished. It is not the pinging of goal posts nor is it the collective sigh of the Faithful as opportunities generated mature into chances squandered. Certainly, it is not the pep band because it can be heard at away games this season. You may ask, what is that sound? It may be the sound of Cornell hockey digging its own grave this season. On the other hand, it may be nothing entirely.

For the more macabre of us, let us look at the evidence ever so cursorily in favor of Cornell drawing its own dirt bath. It took the 2014-15 edition of Cornell hockey five attempts to get its first win. The last time that the Big Red took five games to register its first victory was at the beginning of the 1989-90 season. Doug Derraugh was a junior then and Casey Jones had a much better wardrobe.

This is Cornell, we all know how steep the curve is. That season's team suffered only two losses in its first four games. How deep in infamy must one plunge to find a season in which Cornell had an equally bad or worse record than the one with which this team started? You know the famous "Dewey defeats Truman" headline on the Chicago Tribune? It had not happened yet.

Yes, the 1947-48 season, a year that one could call aptly a "program-shuttering" season for its role in impelling the cancellation of the program for nearly a decade, was the last time that Cornell stumbled so badly, scuffed up its knee, and limped to a crawling start. Now, in a perfect exercise of liberal arts education, let's deconstruct why none of this matters.

The legacy of Cornell hockey is about a few things. Labor, endurance, and championships are those facets. Real championships, the ones whose weight pulls banners to storied rafters, are won in March and April, not October and November. One can make too much of early season results.

People tend to make too much of early and late season results. The latter may indicate that a team has arrived at a formidable playoff mindset and level of execution that can help it endure single-elimination competition. Nothing similar can be said of the former. All regular-season wins count the same, despite what some commentators tell themselves.

Why then do the media and fans weight early season competition so heavily? The answer is because there is nothing else to talk about. Boredom in itself cannot be reason enough to pack up on a season, can it? The sky may not be falling.

If you do not want to take it from me, consider what Paula Voorheis said last weekend. Eerily, her sentiments that echo those of Coach Derraugh apply as well to the men's team as they do its female counterpart. She warned that a team cannot peak too early and must concentrate its winning at the right time if it wants to be successful in the meaningful postseason.

The postseason is months away. Cornell almost certainly will find a way to win. This is intended to give some solace, not encourage complacency. This team has clear deficiencies that need to be addressed.

Cycling has become more of a ritual than a tactic. Ineffective cycling on the power play carries with it at least the advantage of wearing down a team that is shorthanded. It has no such advantage during even-strength play. Nevertheless, in both situations, Cornell appears contented to pass around the periphery while pausing at times to stop, discern if a chance exists, and hesitate just long enough that the defense erases all such opportunities.

Yes, this could be run-of-the-mill being too choosy with shooting, but this season it brings in tow an exaggerated negative. Cornell, many seasons and recruiting classes away from being able to be classified as "big and slow," has become stale and uncreative in its offensive chances. Many a Cornell forward this season has created a needless battle in the corner to begin cycling rather than take a high-probability chance on net right down the center with only one defender backchecking.

This writer must concede that Cornell has little efficiency in converting breakaways this season, but resorting to a cycling-first and cycling-only preference for generating scoring chances has yielded 0.5 goals per contest. Yates's goal against Nebraska-Omaha and Buckles's goal against St. Lawrence were dirty goals that were scored on transitional plays. Neither involved cycling in their generation.

The Clarkson game speaks volumes to the failings of the cycle-only approach this season. Lowry, Bardreau, and Gillam stretched the ice and converted with steely ease on an unstoppable, up-ice transition play on the Golden Knights. Freschi did the same off of a fearless never-say-die Lowry breakaway while the Red was killing a five-minute major in sudden-death overtime. When unfettered, yet disciplined, Cornell can unravel most teams. Restraint must not be confused with responsibility.

Four of Cornell's paltry seven goals scored this season have come off of transition or improvised plays. Three goals have come off of grinding out an opponent in its own end. Nevertheless, this team, more stubbornly than any in recent memory, defaults to charging into the corners no matter what opportunities may lie before it. Continuing to stifle the creativity that even restricted has yielded 57.1% of the Big Red's goals and expecting a sudden improvement in offensive potency is tantamount to Franklinian insanity.

Finally, can we stop counting scoring opportunities? Apportioning some ego-boosting weight to the fact that Cornell has generated scoring chances but not converted is of little use. Patting someone on the back for generating scoring chances but not converting is akin to congratulating a student for bubbling in answers on the SAT without consideration of how many answers are correct.

Cornell has a great deal of time to find its scoring touch. If it does not find it, the Lynah Faithful will become acutely aware of exactly how long a season is. The Red's defensive play and goaltending have been bright spots, but no matter how reliable both are, they deserve to be given a margin of error greater than a typical game's bad bounce and hard-earned goal.

Yale comes to town on Friday. Brown follows it on Saturday. The Elis have grown quite gluttonous on oversized, undersped talent over the last few seasons. It shows. The once-high octane attack of Keith Allain has given way to a stingier, slower defensive style of play which explains why the Elis have scored more than two goals only once this season. Brown is on a skid. The Bears have lost four games in a row. Whittet always has his teams ready to compete at the highest level even if it does not show on the scoreboard. Allain, well, we all know how Allain prepares for Cornell.

Cornell should be focused on becoming the team that it needs to be to close out this season with a Whitelaw Cup and a run in the NCAA Tournament. It has months to finish that process, but it stalled last weekend on Saturday after two creative break-out plays downed Clarkson in a way that many fans will not soon forget. Out-of-conference opponents Penn State and Denver loom. Both are high-scoring opponents that present dual chances at padding or shredding a national resume.

Time, Cornell has. However, an essential part of tournaments is seeding. Winning the spittoon may not matter to the Big Red, but with every loss, Cornell digs a deeper hole. If Cornell does not stop bleeding seeding like a gymnosperm, it will continue to dig its own grave.

Barry Melrose and John Buccigross answered questions submitted via twitter during the November 9, 2014 Notre Dame-Minnesota game on ESPNU. For Barry Melrose, there was only one answer to the question of which school and rink provide the best atmosphere: Lynah Rink of Cornell University.

This spot-on analysis aligns Melrose's perception with those of college-hockey reporter Dave Starman and renowned hockey broadcaster Doc Emrick. Many agree that the Lynah Faithful truly make Lynah Rink where angels fear to tread.

The significance of but a few letters is deceiving. The touchstone of this preseason has been potential. Potential oozes from every description of the Class of 2015 and the entire 99th team to don the iconic carnelian-and-white sweater. Too easily one finds oneself severing the adjectival suffix of potential and arriving at the word potent. Potency implies action, forward movement, and present inevitability. Potential, meanwhile, allows equally the literal creation of the word or an actual result that is impotent.

Potential is undetermined and undifferentiated. It is not known if it will become potency or pass unnoticed as impotence. These seniors and this team have undeniable potential, but what remains to be determined is whether potential will mature into actual results or vintage as sad counterfactuals that plague teammates, fans, and alumni when March and April arrive.

The Red found itself clawing back from a 2-1 deficit late in the contest. Its Western opponent had retrenched into a defensive shell. Reliance on a neutral-zone trap and dump-and-change monotony typified their late-game tactics. The advances from the Ithacans slowly, but at times haphazardly, fought to gain sure footing in the attacking zone. It was not until the closing minutes of the period that the Big Red muscled its way into the offensive zone through prowess and physicality.

The seconds passed. Cornell generated an intimidating net-front presence, but a goaltender who was having a stellar game stood tall to these late salvos. He solved with inversely proportional ease the increasingly dangerous lobs of the puck that he faced. The game would end. The Red fell by a one-goal margin in a 2-1 affair.

Was this game Saturday's outing? It certainly was not Friday's contest because that ended in a draw. However, it was not last weekend's second game against Nebraska-Omaha either. The players for Cornell were many of the same. The names of Cole Bardreau, Joel Lowry, John McCarron, and Joakim Ryan dotted the roster. The opponents were not. The opponents were Kyle Bonis, Jordie Johnston, Taylor Nelson, and Garrett Thompson. The Bulldogs of Ferris State were the victors.

Yes, the game of which I write is neither of the contests from this weekend, but instead the 2012 NCAA Midwest Regional Final. By all objective and historical measures, that game and its immediate predecessor remain the high-water mark for the collective career of the Class of 2015. In many noticeable ways, that game encapsulates the shortcomings, unfulfilled hope, and deficiencies of the squads to which this class has contributed. They have been playing that game for two seasons hence.

It is true that major events and wins have come since that disappointing evening in March 2012. The defeat of Michigan in the Frozen Apple 2012, the sweep of Princeton and the three-game series at Quinnipiac in the 2013 ECAC Hockey Tournament, and the return to the 2014 ECAC Hockey Championship weekend are those moments. However, the Class of 2015 has not re-elevated the program of Cornell hockey as it was advertised to do before its arrival and as it seemed to foreshadow in the 2012 NCAA Tournament. That is why it appears as though this senior class lingers still in Green Bay.

This writer opened this season appropriately and deservingly with reference to some of the greatest classes in Cornell hockey history. The Class of 2015 will be on that list. Nevertheless, it has not lived up to its potential. Since The Core, the seniors of the Class of 2015, arrived on campus, offensive production for the Big Red has decreased steadily. It is a sad reality that as one of the classes possessing of the greatest talent in the history of Cornell hockey has matured, scoring has waned.

There needs to be an end to this slow acceptance of poor offensive production. Cornell scored nearly 20% more goals per game when the Class of 2015 was in its freshman year than Cornell did when that class was in its junior season. After a weekend in which Cornell scored fewer goals in two games than Nebraska-Omaha had been surrendering per contest (2.25 goals per game) before the weekend, fears of this downward trend continuing have little reason to abate.

Last season, Cornell's sluggish rate of scoring required that its combined defense and goaltending be among the nation's 14 best just for the team to have a chance at winning an average contest. During the junior season of The Core, the poor offensive production of Cornell was underperformed by only 12 teams.

Few people enjoy a close-checking, hard-fought, and tightly contested hockey contest more than this writer. In the great defense-first vs. fire-wagon hockey debate, this writer falls decidedly in the former camp. Allowing offensive numbers to wither to the point where Cornell must have a goaltender perform better than 70% of his cohort just to have a chance at winning a game is reckless.

This is not a systemic issue either. This has very, very little, if anything, to do with Schaferian strategy. The last two seasons of Cornell hockey have seen the lowest offensive production in ten seasons. Over that span, Cornell has received an invitation to the national tournament five times. The five teams that went to the NCAA Tournament rank among the most offensively productive. Only the offensive production from the 2006-07 season interrupts the ranks of the NCAA-Tournament teams as the most offensively productive.

The two most offensively productive were the two ECAC Hockey championship teams. Last season, Cornell's rate of scoring was 30.7% less than that of the 2010 ECAC Hockey Championship team and 32.9% less than that of the 2005 ECAC Hockey Championship team. This correlation between offensive production, and NCAA-Tournament relevance and championship attainment is not accidental. The national behemoth that was the 2003 ECAC Hockey championship and Frozen Four team was 53.1% more productive than was Cornell last season. That team scored 3.69 goals per game.

The system is not a crutch in this argument. When the pejoratives of "bigger and slower" were more true than they are now and Schafer's system less accepting of creativity, Cornell was vastly more productive than it was last season when the fast and skilled Core led the team as juniors. The blame must fall somewhere other than Cornell's theory of the game.

Schafer tends to agree with this analysis. In his post-game press conference after season-opening disappointment, he placed blame for the team's lackluster performance firmly on the shoulders of the team's leadership. The five-time ECAC Hockey championship coach said "we have a group of guys who say that they want to take the next step to become a much better hockey team, but come out tonight and play by the seat of their pants." "I am tired of this group talking the talk, but not walking the walk," he continued. "Stop talking and start playing Cornell hockey" was his directed dictate.

"The group," indubitably, is the senior class. Schafer refused to say so much, but the implication was apparent. In his mind, as in the mind of this writer, it as a group remains still in Green Bay. The Class of 2015 leads this team now. Its members have no more seasons left. This is the last. They must be the leaders. This is not 2012. There is no next season and pleasantries in reference to their overall impressive talent do little to change the fact that Cornell has found itself in too many games needing to rely on them to break them open, but most of its members have delivered far too rarely.

The reality that in three seasons on East Hill, a member of the vaunted Class of 2015 has led the Big Red only once in point production is staggering. The potential of The Core has inched only ever so marginally beyond its spectacular display in the 2012 NCAA Tournament, but potential it remains. Cornell has not become dread-inducingly potent since the 2011-12 season.

One knows what the alternate end state is. This senior class has the ability to avert that fate, but several missed breakaway opportunities and unnecessary stylistic flourishes on the ice last weekend make the outlook bleak. Missed passes and awry chemistry between linemates in a sophomore season are expected and excusable. They are not when the puck drops on a highly ambitious senior campaign.

This writer began the season with comparisons between the Class of 2015 and the great Classes of 1977, 1978, 1979, and 1991. The tale was cautionary. Even graduating years that counted some of the most gifted players in the history of the program as their members were unable to bring a championship to East Hill. Only one of those classes played in the NCAA Tournament. After last weekend's performance, a corollary must be added to that argument. If the Class of 2015 fails to perform and does not seize the reins of leadership, its impact upon the program, once anticipated to be immensely beneficial, will not even be found in statistical ledgers.

It is an oxymoronic hockey maxim that veterans and star players will carry a team to the Elysian Fields of the playoffs, but once there, contributions must come from all and, if anything, disproportionately the newcomers. The newcomers and underclassmen proved that they were willing to contribute. Of the six points that Cornell players tallied last weekend, five went to someone outside the senior class. Ryan Bliss filled the void when an injured Joakim Ryan left the lineup early in the series and did not return. There has been no indication when Ryan will return.

Bliss' performance was one of the many spectacles from the freshman class. Jared Fiegl did not find the back of the net, but his line with Dias and Tiitinen was the most efficient and aggressive checking line. It created the most opportunities with hastened yet disciplined execution. Trevor Yates resembled at times another wearer of his number when he skated with the skill of a much older power forward in creating an opportunity and a goal out of essentially nothing in his first time in the carnelian-and-white sweater. The younger classes are ready to perform if the senior class can set the stage.

One point. Yes, one point was all that the senior class registered. It is only one game. It may be overstatement. But, it appears like the Class of 2015 is waiting still after two and a half years to play Cornell hockey with the distinct flavor of this class and refuse to lose. This class is talented enough that it should refuse to lose a contest, especially a 2-1 contest against an offensively minded team, and be able to rip open the game more often than not. Potential, not potency, is all that this senior class will have or be remembered for having if it cannot return teeth to the cogs of the Big Red hockey machine.

Author

Where Angels Fear to Tread is a blog dedicated to covering Cornell Big Red men's and women's ice hockey, two of the most storied programs in college hockey. WAFT endeavors to connect student-athletes, students, fans, and alumni to Cornell hockey and its proud traditions.